


Keeping Hope

by Mel_Sanfo



Category: Arrow (TV 2012)
Genre: Bratva Oliver Queen, F/M, Fake Marriage, I Don't Even Know, Kid Fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-27
Updated: 2016-06-05
Packaged: 2018-05-23 12:00:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 13,775
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6115780
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Mel_Sanfo/pseuds/Mel_Sanfo
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A good deed on Felicity's part lands her in the hospital, leading her to make a deal with the devil in order to keep an innocent safe.</p><p>Bratva AU!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Saving Hope

**Author's Note:**

  * For [L3cubed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/L3cubed/gifts).



> I, literally, have no idea what I'm doing with this story. But no one stopped me, so here it is.
> 
> Because the world needs more Bratva!Oliver and morally grey Felicity.
> 
> There's no schedule set for this one. Then again, I don't do well with schedules anyways.
> 
> As per usual, I don't own Arrow and all mistakes are my own!

Beep…

 

Beep…

 

Beep…

 

The steady sound brought her back. Slowly, steadily, untangling the grasp of unconsciousness from both her mind and her body, both which felt uncharacteristically sluggish for some reason. To keep herself calm, even though recognizing the sound for what it was did nothing for that scenario, she meditated as best she could. She focused on her breathing and feeling her toes, there was a twinge of dulled pain she didn’t understand on her right leg but she brushed it off in order to take further stock of her body.

Next surprise up, it came at the height of her ribs. Every breath seemed to send a twinge of pain through her ribcage, but again it wasn’t all there, not full on pain, more like a discomfort than anything else. And though her body felt heavy her right hand felt even more so. Unwittingly she flexed her fingers and she winced, a hiss of breath leaving her lips.

Her hand hurt.

Just enough to notice, just a bit more than her ribs or her leg. It was a flat sort of pain though and she knew, without a shadow of a doubt that she was medicated; heavily medicated at that and that was the reason for the minimized, yet ever present, pain as well as the slowness of her otherwise overactive brain.

_What the hell..?_

And just like that everything came rushing back to the front of her mind. Her eyes flew open and she tried to sit up with a gasp on her lips that turned into a sharp cry of pain when all of the sudden the flat pain all over her body was dull no longer.

A set of strong hands was on her shoulders instantly, pushing her back down to the bed.

“Shh… It’s Ok. You’re Ok.” The man’s voice said.

It was quiet, slightly raspy and low, but it was also known to her. Yet she couldn’t be still, she struggled all the same, even if she did so weakly.

“No! The girl! Don’t let that woman close to the girl!” she cried out, her wild and unfocused gaze landing for the first time on the man that was now holding her down on the bed, a cold feeling of dread coating her heart because she remembered, in her desperation, she had made a deal with an agent of the devil and apparently he had accepted.

His presence by her side now was proof of that.

“Felicity! Stop struggling. The girl is fine,” he assured her, steel in his voice, blue eyes burning into her own, both his words and his hold forcing her to stop her desperate movements.

“She’s fine..? The girl? She’s ok..?” she gasped out, trying to catch her breath in short soft inhales because anything deeper hurt far too much.

“She is,” he replied with a nod of his head. “She’s fine. Thanks to you,” he said, lifting his hands from her shoulders. “Don’t move too much. You were hurt.”

She couldn’t do anything but nod, slowly, minutely, closing her eyes and licking her dry lips, trying to catch her breath.

The girl was ok… That was good.

“Here.” His soft voice made her eyes pop open and though she was without her glasses she could still see him pretty well; he was holding a cup with a straw in his hand, his other hand came to cup the back of her head and she relinquished her fear for a single moment to take his kindness.

The water was barely cold but it did wonders for her throat and she sighed contentedly, letting go of the straw after a few short sips. He allowed her head to rest on the pillow once more and she watched as he set the cup down on the little table by her hospital bed before taking a seat on the chair right next to it, arms folded over his chest.

He wore a suit, dark grey and a light blue expensive looking shirt with buttons that did wonders for his eyes. His jacket was off though and his sleeves were rolled up to his elbows. His eyes were stuck on hers, watching her...no, studying her. As if he had never seen her before. As if she was a stranger, a brand new being that he had to decipher, when in truth they’d met each other months ago and had had many conversations, with him coming to her store and she refusing to sell it to him so he could use it as a front for his real business.

Oliver Queen, Captain of the Russian mafia and CEO of Queen Consolidated, was a powerful man with many interests. Buying small businesses with great location on the city, for whatever reason, seemed to be something he did often and though most shop owners usually rolled over and handed the keys at the first chance that they got Felicity had been a roadblock. She had been refusing his offer to buy for months, he had come and gone from her store more times than she cared to admit,  to the point that her and his right hand man had formed a sort of friendship between them, silent communication was very present there.

But he always left without the deed to her store, he never threatened her, he tried to charm her, appeal to her business sense, he even hiked up the amount of his offer several times but she always refused him, with a polite smile and a ‘Have a good morning/afternoon/evening, Mr. Queen’ as her parting words.

She knew, though. Oliver Queen was a devil in disguise and though she might’ve made a deal in her most desperate moment she didn’t expect him at her bedside.  

Thinking back to the moment that changed it all was almost amusing and she would’ve laughed at herself if she hadn’t been aware that doing so would hurt like hell. She swore it had been just another afternoon in her life, any other Tuesday for crying out loud, she would’ve never imagined such an afternoon would change things so much but it seemed it had.

She’d been closing up her tech store and computer repair shop when it had happened. The encounter was inconspicuous enough. She had set up the alarm, the automatic cage like door coming down before the display glass of her storefront and she had used her tablet to make sure that all security features had been set.

The red balloon didn’t gather her attention, it didn’t even come into her line of sight before bumping her bare arm, the light bounce bringing her attention to the toy, down the bright pink string of it and to the little girl the balloon was attached to at the wrist. She was a pretty little girl with beautiful cerulean eyes, dark blonde hair in pigtails and a happy smile that she bestowed on Felicity with a mumbled ‘Sowwy’ that made Felicity’s heart melt a little.

She wiggled her fingers at the little girl in both greeting and goodbye as she was led away quickly by the hand, the dark haired woman in charge of her not even bothering to shorten her stride one bit for the little girl to catch up with her. Scrunching up her nose at the thought of how inconsiderate the woman seemed, Felicity shook her head and put her tablet away in her brightly colored tote bag before heading the same way the woman and balloon girl had gone before her.

It had been just the three of them standing patiently at the light, the crosswalk light flashing its red warning when Felicity looked up from her cell phone and for a moment her genius brain couldn’t understand what she was seeing. The woman with the dark hair had untied the balloon’s string from the little girl’s wrist, bopping the red toy outwards, towards the road, while letting go of the girl’s hand. Of course the child went after her toy. Of course she wouldn’t have thought anything of it in her innocence and when the woman took a decisive step back, Felicity knew that this would end in tragedy.

Her tote bag was abandoned as she rushed forward, her bright colored sundress swishing against her legs as she ran, yelling to the little girl to ‘stop!’, but of course the girl was too busy jumping in the middle of the road trying to reach for the string of her balloon. It all happened in a second. She saw the dark colored car coming and a burst of speed she didn’t know she possessed pushed her forward even faster than before, even wearing her high heels. The calculations in her head were immediate. The car wasn’t stopping.

The car never meant to stop for the little girl in the middle of the road.

She heard a shout from somewhere, though she didn’t pay attention to that at all. Instead she caught the little girl in her arms on one of her little hops and turned to run, to get out of the way of the incoming car, but her calculation was either wrong or the car had accelerated further,  because the car was already there right then and all she could do was curl herself as much as she could around the young body she held in her arms.

She didn’t even have time to brace for impact.

In all honesty she didn’t remember the impact. She DID remember seeing the sky and the feeling of being weightless, even through all that, she vaguely remembered clutching her precious cargo even tighter to herself.

Then there was pain.

Pain wracking her senses and pitiful cries coming from below her.

People were screaming yet it seemed so far away. Someone was shouting ‘Someone call 911!’  While someone else was yelling something along the lines of ‘Is anyone here a doctor!?’ and for a second she was tempted to offer to make the call because that would be easy, her phone was never too far from her hand anyways. Something held her back though, something was tugging at her and the black spots in her vision were an obvious announcement of what was to follow.

“T-the g..girl…” she was sure she managed to say out loud but then again maybe not?

She came to inside a building. Hospital, her mind provided immediately based on the rushing feeling of her body, which was laid flat on a stretcher, being rushed somewhere by uniformed people. EMTs, her mind provided instantly. The lights that were flashing above her head blinded her momentarily before her blurry eyes looked around frantically. She couldn’t move her head, a neck brace of some sort making it impossible but still she thought she spied a known tall dark figure on the hall and the cry that left her lips was desperate.

“DIGGLE!”

Her stretcher came to a halt immediately, the big man stopping its progress with both his hands holding onto the gurney and glowering at the medical staff to back off.

“Felicity? What the hell?”

“Digg! Th-the girl! Don’t let the w-woman get the girl...” she forced the words out, even with her head pounding as it was, even as her body was screaming it’s discomfort. “I grabbed, I grabbed her from the road… she has to be here. She has to be here, somewhere, Digg, please! She’s blonde, blue eyes, tutu and pink shirt! Please! I’m begging you! Tell Mr. Queen. I’ll sell. Tell him, tell him I will do it! Just, please, keep the girl safe! Please!”

“It’s OK, Felicity.” He said going to touch one of her hands but deciding against it when he noticed the splint there. “I’ll tell him. I’ll find the girl for you, ok?”

She tried to nod at his words, desperate tears rolling down from her eyes, relief and pain mixing together, making her gasp.

“We need to get going.” One of the nurses snapped at the only bit of solace that Felicity had at the moment and before another word could be spoken between them she was being moved again, the lights above her flashing by once more and no sign of Digg left.

After that there was nothing more to recollect except her waking up in the hospital room and Oliver Queen keeping her from hurting herself further by moving too much. Oliver Queen assuring her that the girl was OK. Oliver Queen giving her water and watching her, watching over her? That last one was yet to be determined.

Felicity didn’t really know when she fell asleep but when she woke up once more her body was still very much in the same state of dull pain and heaviness. The room was dark, except for a small sliver of light coming from the opening to the bathroom, the door was ajar. Slowly she let her gaze wander to where Oliver Queen had been sitting before, though she had no idea how much time had passed, and she was startled to see that he was still there.

Still watching her.

The clothes he wore were different though and she had to squint in the dim light to make him out. He was wearing jeans and a grey Henley. The only reason she saw his black boots was because he had his legs crossed, ankle over opposite knee. Gone was the suit she associated with him and instead the man sitting by her hospital bed could’ve still stepped out of GQ magazine. She figured his jeans alone probably cost more than her shoe collection. 

“The girl is fine.” He said simply and she nodded her head once. “She has a sprained wrist but she’s too happy with her pink cast to really care.”

“Thank Google that’s all she got.” she found herself saying, without filter, before sighing heavily and wincing right after, having forgotten that deep breaths were not a good idea right now. “Since I’m Jewish I don’t really believe in Heaven or Hell, so that leaves me with I’m guessing I’m not dead and you’re not my head canon for the Devil himself which means you are actually here. In my hospital room...for some reason that escapes me. Why are you here, Mr. Queen?”

“Digg.” He replied calmly, his head tilting slightly to the side as he spoke and it must’ve been her lack of glasses but she could’ve sworn there was an uptick of his lips for a moment there before his face became passive again. “He told me what happened downstairs in the emergency room.”

“Ok. And you couldn’t wait to get your grabby hands on my shop, so you decided to camp out in my room and make sure I didn’t change my mind? Go back on my deal?” she sassed, because in such a prone position as she was the least she could do was give him a bit of hell, verbally.

“No.” he answered shifting forward on the chair, lowering his leg so he could rest his elbows on his knees and letting his arms hang loose before him. “He said you mentioned a woman. That you begged him to not let the woman get the girl.” he said “I want you to tell me what happened.”

“Why?” she asked, a frown adorning her features.

“You wouldn’t like the answer to that, Miss Smoak.” he admitted coldly. “Tell me what happened.” his voice left no room for argument but still she stubbornly refused until he let out a soft breath that could’ve been construed as both an annoyed yet tired sigh before adding the magical word. “Please.”

In the darkness of the room Felicity considered her options. What she had witnessed today… Was it still today? How long had she been out? She might want to ask him that at some point, she gathered before shaking the questions loose and regaining her path of thought. What she had witnessed had been an obvious and cruel attempt at murder, there was no question about it. The woman had done it on purpose, setting the balloon free, pretty much ushering the girl to get it, leaving her at the mercy of that upcoming dark car while she took a step back… And here was Oliver Queen, a man she knew had a reputation for being ruthless and calculating, yet he had never threatened her once…

Which was the lesser of two evils?

This man could very well be a weapon to keep that sweet little girl safe.

So she told him.

She told him everything. Every detail she remembered. From the woman’s dark hair and bright red lips to the clothes she wore. She told him about the girl, with her pigtails and her blue eyes, her light up sneakers, colorful tights, tutu skirt and pink blouse with puffy sleeves. She told him about the woman letting go of the balloon and about the incoming car; the make and model of it flashing in her brain with such vivid clarity that she told him that too, just in case. She told him about blacking out, hearing the girl’s whimpers and feeling the little body wiggling under her own as the last thing that reached her ears before passing out. She told him about seeing Diggle and being desperate in that moment to make sure the woman didn’t get her hands on the girl again.

“I’d like to think I’m not a violent person.” she began to say as an ending to her tale “But what that woman did… She doesn’t deserve mercy.” she admitted, linking her gaze with his with an inner strength that was her trademark yet far colder than it had ever been in its certainty. “So if I have to accept your offer and give you my shop just to make sure that you don’t let that...bitch do something like that ever again then it’ll be well worth it.”

Oliver watched her in silence for what seemed a small eternity before he nodded his head once.

“I don’t think that will be necessary.”

Then, in an unhurried manner he took out his cell phone from the pocket of his jeans and swiped the screen a few times before standing and coming to stand by the bed, he held the phone before her, showing her a picture that she didn’t expect.

Not in a million years.

Because on that picture was Oliver Queen, laying down on the grass, it was a Selfie and he had the biggest, happiest, smile on his face while a little girl with dirty blonde hair, that she recognized immediately, kissed his cheek sloppily in childish exuberance; traces of glittery face paint in the shape of fairy wings evident on her features, even if all that could be seen was her profile.

It was a picture depicting pure unadulterated happiness. Something she would have never associated with Oliver Queen.

She must have made a sound of some sort because when her eyes moved away from the little screen to look up at him he was already looking down at her, his cerulean blue eyes looking stormy even in the dim lighting.

Cerulean eyes… she’d seen those eyes before...

“Her name is Hope. Hope Elizabeth Allyana Queen. She’s almost 4 years old and those light up sneakers you talked about? They’re her favorite pair.” he said, the softness of his voice, the sheer tenderness the words carried in their gentleness brought a fresh film of tears to her eyes. “She’s my daughter and you, Miss Smoak, saved her life today.”  

 

  

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, you can find me on both Twitter and Tumblr.  
> @Melmo2010 and https://www.tumblr.com/blog/melsanfo  
> Come say hi!


	2. Loose ends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity's hospital stay takes a turn...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As per usual, I don't own Arrow and all mistakes are my own.
> 
> Also, the italics part are a flashback of sorts. Not like canon flashbacks but actually important to the story ;)

Being in a hospital was boring… Or at least it was supposed to be. For any other person out there it should have been. Not Felicity’s stay at the hospital.

Oh no.

Apparently having a normal hospital stay was too much to ask after her good deed. Sure, she got a few hours of being out but that was it. A completely normal stay just didn’t seem possible. Not when there had been a shots fired from the building across the street. Shots which had shattered her room’s window and hit her doctor; who had obliviously gotten in the shooter’s line of sight when leaning in to check on the stitches on her hairline. Getting hit twice, by the way his body jerked in reaction, was the reward for his efforts.

Nothing was normal about it.

She had yelped at the shattering sound of the window and the splatter of blood on her face, her glasses catching some of the droplets. Before she knew what was happening she was pinned to the linoleum floor, right by her bed, with a 200+ meat wall of Russian mobster shielding her from above while two bodyguards, none who she recognized, burst into the room; placing themselves on each side of the window frame then shooting back at the attacker.

The ‘pop, pop, pop’ of the gunshots making her clutch onto the front of Oliver’s shirt.

Another black suit made it into the room and this time she recognized Diggle immediately. Once he arrived Oliver moved, as fast as she’d ever seen someone move, picking himself up from the floor and scooping her into his arms bridal style while shouting something in Russian to Diggle, who replied just as fluently.

How was this her life?! How had it come to this? She’d just had a nice, though nowhere near babble free, conversation with the mobster who now, it seemed, owed her a great deal!

Looking back she should’ve known that things were not going to stay as calm as they had been for the few hours that she’d been unconscious and the little bit after that. It had all been so innocent!

Peaceful even.

_Her doctor had interrupted their chat about Hope and the mental bomb that it was, for Felicity, to realize that she; Felicity Smoak, IT girl, computer master and geek extraordinaire, was Oliver’s daughter’s savior. He had arrived just after Oliver had shown her the picture and at the doctor’s arrival Oliver had moved away from the bed so Felicity could be checked over by the physician without him hovering._

_The doctor asked her all of the necessary questions, which she replied to as well as she could, because who can remember all of the ailments their family tree has suffered from? Especially after the ordeal she’d gone through. The little correlation between her propensity for heart disease and getting hit by a car getting lost in translation for Felicity. But the doctor was patient, telling her that it was all procedure and then moved on to explain exactly what her body had gone through and the results of her heroic act._

_Bruised ribs. Check. Broken arm. Check. Sprained ankle. Check. Head wound. Check._

_She was glad she’d been too out of it to see when they sutured the wound on her hairline because needles always made her really nervous. The broken arm was going to be a pain at work, the bruised ribs she could handle, but the idea of the needle and stitches had made her a bit green in the face. Sure, she had jumped in front of a car to save a little girl but God forbid anyone approached her with a needle._

_Both the doctor and the CEO/mobster had found that funny._

_“You used my first name.”_

_A quirked eyebrow was the reply to her statement, making her huff lightly while getting a bit more comfortable on her hospital bed. The doctor had left them alone for a moment, to go check on some of the paperwork and Oliver had retaken his seat on the chair by her bed. He’d been inspecting something on his phone, so engrossed in it that her statement had seemingly come out of nowhere._

_“I mean when I woke up the first time.” She said, as way of explanation. “I was freaking out about the girl and you said my name as you held me down, so I wouldn’t hurt myself further. I don’t think I’ve ever heard you say it before.” She admitted with a shrug, using her good hand to touch the cast that was wrapped around the wrist on her affected arm. “It’s kinda weird hearing it coming from you, to be honest.” She added with another huff, sounding amused._

_If there was one thing that could be said about Oliver Queen is that he had quite an effective poker face. His eyes, and the way that the glint in them shifted, spoke volumes. Right now, even with the dire situation that they were in they shone with amusement._

_“I don’t think I’d ever said it out loud. To me, you’ve always been Miss Smoak.” He admitted._

_“It’s weird, isn’t it?” She asked with a head tilt. “I mean, you’ve been trying to buy my store and the building it’s in for months now and we’ve always been so proper. ‘Miss Smoak this. Mister Queen that.’ Which, I have to admit, is quite surprising considering you’re a mobster and your reputation, from what I’ve heard, is more along the lines of ‘Grrr-do-as-I-say-or-I-will-end-you’ than anything polite. And now here we are. You’re sitting at my bedside, at the hospital, because I saved a little girl I didn’t know, who turned out to be your daughter and we hadn’t even said each other’s first name to each other like ever. Not really, anyways. Oh and don’t even get me started on the fact that you have a daughter. You! Oliver Queen has a secret daughter! You’re like tabloid and media crack, yet no one has ever caught a glimpse of your daughter before? That seems absolutely ridiculous to me. I don’t mean to say that it seemed impossible to me that you HAVE a daughter, because obviously you’re a very handsome and healthy looking man. I’m sure that a woman somewhere went ‘I need to get myself some of that’ and jumped your bones. It’s all A-OK on that regard. And you’re a man, so you have all of the body parts required to make a baby with someone. You seem fit enough for those to be in tip top shape and working order, all around you know? It’s just… you. You have a daughter. Where was I going with this..?”_

_“I have a daughter and that fact is very surprising to you.” He offered, a slow smile tugging his lips up._

_“RIGHT! That’s where I was going with it. How did that even happen? No, no, I know how it happened. I mean I don’t KNOW how it happened and I am NOT asking for details but I did have the ‘birds and the bees’ talk with my mom when I was little, so I know the theory behind how anyone would make and have a child… Oh God, I think the pain meds are making my brain to mouth filter even worse than usual.” She muttered, a blazing feeling taking over her cheeks, neck and the tips of her ears as she blushed scarlet. “Did I actually talk about your baby making parts? No…Don’t answer that. That was completely a rhetorical question.”_

_He huffed a small chuckle, or at least that’s what she thought it was, shaking his head a little as if he couldn’t believe what he’d just heard. Thankfully the doctor’s arrival had thwarted any possibility of her continuing the conversation with Oliver Queen, baby maker and mobster._

_Then all hell had broken loose._

Shock.

That was the only way she could understand her lapse of memory. One moment she was being picked up from the floor by Oliver and the next she was already out of the room and on the hall, close to the nurse station, sat upon a computer chair a nurse had brought for her, with Diggle’s suit jacket draped over her shoulders and two more suited bodyguards by her side. The whole floor of the hospital was in a nervous flutter. Even the police had made an appearance, which is why Oliver was no longer with her.

Both Oliver and Diggle, as well as the two bodyguards who had returned fire, were talking to the police officers, giving their statements or something that Felicity couldn’t hear and was paying partial attention to. She was still unsure what all had happened and she had let the policeman who had taken her own statement know that.

She did know that her doctor, the poor man, had been wheeled out by a flock of nurses and other doctors, rushed down the hall at top speed on a gurney, one bullet to the shoulder and one to the back. The nurse that was crouched before her had made sure that the little wound on her good hand had stopped bleeding, since apparently when Oliver had pulled her off the bed her IV had been ripped off. There hadn’t been much damage but the nurse had decided to fuss over Felicity, since she was in obvious shock.

All she could think about was the trajectory of those bullets. The doctor had gotten in the way of them but what if he hadn’t? The certainty that it would’ve been Felicity herself who had gotten shot put ice in her veins. And it all would’ve been instant lights out, by the way the man had gotten shot.

The bodyguards that had shot back were handing over their weapons to the police officers, who placed them in little plastic evidence bags. After shaking hands with both Oliver and Diggle the group of men parted ways, the officers headed towards the elevator bank while Oliver and his men approached her.

The Mobster looked positively murderous and the men by Felicity seemed to stand even straighter at their post in reaction. Even the nurse picked up on it and after making sure that the bandage taped to Felicity’s hand would stick she stood up and moved away from the blue eyed handsome devil that he was. No amount of false charm could mask his fury at the moment.

“How are you doing, Felicity?” Diggle asked, resting one of his hands on her shoulder as he crouched before her.

Her blue eyes linked with his brown ones and for a long moment there were no words. How could she explain to him that, as horrible as it sounded, she was relieved that the doctor had been in the way of those bullets? That she was glad that she was still alive even though only God knows how the doctor was doing? How could she put into words that she had the biggest amount of guilt swirling in her gut at those thoughts? She was horrified at herself. Then again, why shouldn’t she be glad to be alive?

“I don’t really know.” She admitted finally, using her mostly unharmed hand to push her eyeglasses up the bridge of her nose.

“That’s ok. It’s ok to not know right now.” Diggle offered with a few nods of his head.

“Do we… know how bad it was? For Doctor Morgan?” she asked.

“He’s in surgery right now. They’ll let us know how it went once they’re done.” He explained glancing up at Oliver for a moment before looking at her once more. “Felicity, we want to get you out of here and take you someplace safe.”

“Those bullets… They were meant for me.” She said.

“We think so.” Diggle admitted, not pulling any punches.

“Ok.”

What ELSE could she say? She had jumped in front of a moving car to save a little girl but that doesn’t mean she had a death wish!

It was surprisingly easy to get her discharge papers done and over with. She had no real clothes to wear, since her own had been blood stained and ripped from the ‘accident’, so the nurse who had fussed over her after the shooting, Jesse was her name, had given her a set of scrubs and a pair of lime green sneakers that were a size too big.

Sooner than she would’ve thought possible she was placed in a wheelchair and wheeled away, down the hall, to the elevators, out of the hospital, surrounded by Oliver’s bodyguards and the man himself. A big black SUV was already at the curb, waiting for them, along with another black car idling right behind it. When Diggle opened the back door of the SUV Oliver didn’t miss a beat, picking her up from the wheelchair and placing her in the backseat of the SUV, climbing in right behind her after she scooted over trying to get comfortable on the leather seat.

The driver switched places with Diggle and as soon as Oliver had closed the door they were off.

“We’re clear.” Diggle said from the front of the car, making Oliver sigh heavily.

“Miss Smoak, we need to talk.” He said from his side of the backseat, keeping his voice gentle, not wanting to frighten her further than she already was.

“It’s not safe for me to go home, is it?” She asked, after minutes had gone by, her eyes peering out the window at the city that flew by.

“No.” The Russian mobster replied, quietly. “We believe whoever the shooter is, he or she, it’s still out there.”

“I don’t understand. Why would they try to kill me?” she whispered, a shudder rolling down her spine.

“You are a target because you survived.” He admitted, glancing at her from the corner of his eye. “The woman you saw with my daughter yesterday was her nanny, part of my household and loyal to the Bratva; or so we thought. After you spoke to Diggle, when you were brought into the hospital, we got in contact with one of our men in the SCPD. He verified the witness accounts of the accident for us and we were able to identify her as one of the culprits from a traffic cam nearby. Your description of her, after you woke up, damned her further. I believe, since you’re the only one who can serve as witness, the one person who can recount everything without a shadow of a doubt, as to what happened, that’s made you a target.”

“Which brings us to the next problem.” He added. “Because of what you did for my family I took the liberty to put some security measures into place. One of those was to make sure no one, aside from my people, knew who you were or where.”

The admission made her turn her head in order to look at him. His face was stoic as ever but his eyes betrayed him, as per usual. He was still angry, raging even, but it wasn’t directed at her, not in the least. No. This was Oliver Queen realizing he had been betrayed by his own people. Whoever had shot at Felicity had gotten the information from someone who worked for him!

“There’s a mole in your organization.” She muttered in an exhale.

This was bad. This was very, very bad! Not only had someone tried to kill his daughter, not 24 hours ago but now he had realized that the danger came from within ranks. And they were eager to tie up all lose ends.

“So it seems.” He admitted with a nod, blue eyes linking with hers. “You offered to do business with me in order to save that little girl. Would you still be willing to do so? Even now that you know who she is?”

“I don’t understand. You said you didn’t want my store anymore.”

“Felicity Smoak, top of your class MIT graduate with two degrees, Class of 2009. Your professional resume is impressive on itself, I was tempted to hire you in more than one occasion but since you were so stubborn about selling I had to rethink my offer. Still, being who I am and my line of work, I always like to dig a little deeper. You did have a phase where you were more morally grey than you are now. A hacktivist. Creator of a super virus that someone else used idly and got caught for.” He said. “If you’re willing to go into business with me I will make sure that you are safe, from this day forward. All I need for you to do is find the person, or people, within my organization, that thought it’d be a good idea to betray their Captain so I can stop them and keep my family safe.”

Even though she had worked really hard to move on from the foolish mistakes she’d made when she was younger Felicity couldn’t fault Oliver from bringing them up. Yes, she had been an idiot. Thinking she could be a hero sitting behind a computer screen and hacking every database that Cooper thought ‘deserved’ it. She WAS one of the best, she just didn’t know Oliver knew that.

She should’ve known better.

“Are you blackmailing me?”

“No. I’m telling you that I know there’s more to you than meets the eye. That’s all.” He offered, calmly.

“So… I help you find whoever is after your daughter and who is helping them, from within your ranks and you make sure that I am safe, through all that and afterwards?”

“Yes.”

“And, how are you going to do that exactly? Bringing in a new person into the fold is going to look suspicious, won’t it?” She asked “I mean, your people are not going to trust me and they’ll try to stonewall my information gathering process, maybe even get someone that does what I do to wipe all traces of their evil doing; try being the operative word on the statement though because if it’s on the internet I can find it…”

“Miss Smoak.” His voice caressing her name made her stop her babble abruptly, her eyes widening. “You won’t be brought into my house as someone going into the fold.”

“I don’t understand. And for someone with my IQ level that is saying something.”

He smirked at that. Smirked! An honest to God twitch of his lips with a glint of mischief in his eyes.

“Since I have been visiting you for months, with only Diggle as company, it’ll be easy to manipulate the truth a little; those business meetings between us can be painted in a romantic light to fit our current needs.”

She laughed at that, which was a bad idea with her bruised ribs, but she couldn’t help it. The idea was ridiculous! Even when she had to place her arm with the cast against her midsection due to the pain, she laughed HARD.

“You can’t be serious.” She offered after her incredulous laughter had died down. “No one is going to believe we’re dating! That’s just unthinkable!”

“Is it?” He asked, taking out a little velvet box from one of the pockets of his jeans. “My people know I am all about secrecy when it comes to the people that matter to me and my personal life. I have a secret daughter, it wouldn’t be surprising at all if I got myself a secret wife.” He said while opening the lid of the velvet box and showing her the ring set there.

Her thoughts came to a screeching halt at the sight, for a few seconds, before jumping right back to light speed processing. She could practically hear her mom, or at least the mental image she had of her mom, screaming in glee at the jewelry that was being presented to her, but all Felicity could come up with was one word.

Gaudy.

The middle stone, obviously a diamond, was almost as big as the fingernail on her thumb, square in shape and glinting so much from the little light inside the cabin of the SUV that it could’ve easily served as an emergency flare. Then there were even more diamonds, all over the white metal that supported the huge primary stone and the thick wedding band that sat right behind it, on the velvet bed of the box, was encrusted with even more clear stones.

“So, Felicity Smoak, are you still up for making a deal with the devil you know, as you said, in order to save that little girls life?” He asked, a quirked brow adorning his otherwise amused looking features.

“That…has to be the worst proposal for a fake marriage I have ever heard.” She replied, blinking owlishly up at him.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, you can find me on both Twitter and Tumblr.  
> @Melmo2010 and https://www.tumblr.com/blog/melsanfo  
> Come say hi!


	3. Protection

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Felicity is granted protection under Bratva law.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I would not have been able to do this chapter without the help of Anna AKA @Mimozka on Tumblr, who absolutely ROCKS!!! She is my go to person when it comes to the Russian in all my fics. So Thank you! Thank you! THANK YOU, Anna! You are awesome!
> 
> Speaking of the Russian in this chapter, the text in between the parenthesis and in italics is the English translation to the Russian bits. 
> 
> I hope you all like this.
> 
> As per usual, I don't own Arrow and ALL mistakes are my own!

He had escaped.

No…

He’d run away.

There were no other words for what he’d done. No other way to explain it or to put it. As soon as it was possible for him to do so, he had escaped. Once they had reached the penthouse he kept downtown, as one of his many personal properties, he’d left his brand new bride, to rest, in his... no, _their_ bedroom and disappeared into his office. He’d had to. There was so much happening, all at once, that he had to take a moment to himself, to build up all of his walls, to get himself in check; because this? This was not what he had intended.

Not in the least.

And it was throwing him off balance, which was something he couldn’t afford.

The room itself, his office, was only a few doors down from where the blond was now settling but to Oliver it was as if she was still by his side.

It was something he had realized about Felicity Smoak from their very first encounter.

Her presence lingered.

In the privacy of his office, surrounded by the glass and chrome, the minimalistic and modern furniture Thea had insisted he ‘just had to have’ and his book cases, he was able to take a deep breath for the first time in what seemed an eternity.

It all seemed like a bad cosmic joke.

Three days since he had gotten the call that tipped his world on its axis. Three days since his daughter had been put in danger by someone from his staff, someone that he had trusted to keep what he held dearest in his heart safe. The woman who had been taking care of his daughter for a year now had been the one to offer her up as an innocent lamb up for slaughter. And the unsuccessful attack had created an unstoppable snowball effect that had left him with little to no choice but to bring in a civilian into a lifestyle that he knew wasn’t for everyone.

Especially someone like her.

Felicity Smoak, the amusing bane of his existence.

A babbling blond and tech genius who would not bend to his will, no matter how he tried to sway her. His charm didn’t work, even though all visible signs pointed to her being attracted to him. His money didn’t work either. He had offered her so many different figures, some enticing yet believable and others as preposterous as he could get himself to hand over with a straight face. All of which she had refused, even the one with an almost comical amount of zeroes attached to it. His business propositions didn’t work any better. Even a partnership that would be more than successful didn’t seem to interest her in the least.

No.

This was a woman who had worked hard to get where she was and have what she had; she was not parting with it… Except, it seemed, when it came to an innocent life hanging in the balance. Then she’d not only been more than happy to part with her prized store but had pretty much offered it to him, in a silver platter, no real questions asked, in exchange for something Oliver gave the innocent in question freely.

The tidbit of information that he’d found regarding her younger years of rebellion and hacktivism had been a recent development, discovered only after she’d been in the hospital, so he hadn’t been able to use that kind of leverage to his advantage when he’d needed it, for business. He’d only failed to use two of the usual approach techniques in his arsenal, when it came to her, intimidation and violence; but even if he had, he was pretty sure that she would’ve somehow resisted those too. And now he was glad he hadn’t. He was glad that the little bit of humanity he had left had made him refrain from it.

For where would he be if she hadn’t been at that crosswalk? If she, like so many people in this day and age, had been too preoccupied with her cell phone or tablet and hadn’t seen his daughter go in the middle of the road to catch her balloon? If she hadn’t risked everything, selflessly, in order to become a human shield for what he held closest to his heart?

Stubborn, good hearted, attractive, intelligent; Felicity Smoak.

His _wife_.

She wasn’t the kind of woman that needed to get tangled in his world. Too bad there was no way around it now. She was too good to be in the midst of things but somehow fate had intervened and pretty much dropped a ray of light on his lap, to keep him warm in the cold dark world where he not only lived but ruled.

It was that stubborn streak that had made her stand, aided by him only a few hours earlier, with her chin up and shoulders back, regaly, before an officiant at the courthouse while they got married. They’d gone and gotten the marriage license as soon as she’d agreed, once her shock had faded some. Even HE wasn’t that much of a monster that he’d not grant her a bit of the limited time they had to gather her bearings.

He’d even granted her a small stop by a boutique, Diggle himself accompanying her into the store, to buy and change into her wedding attire.

‘Even though this is going to be a fake marriage it IS somewhat of a real wedding, in paper anyways and if I have to wear this monstrosity of a ring to keep up appearances then I am at least getting a somewhat appropriate dress for this.’ She’d explained, setting her proverbial foot down against the idea when it came to her getting married in hospital scrubs and overly big sneakers that didn’t fit her at all.

He’d found it funny that she didn’t approve of the jewelry he had chosen from the Queen vault, when most women would’ve been salivating to get their hands on a single piece.

And so they had stood before the clerk and officiant, it really paid to have state employees on his payroll, with Diggle serving as their required witness. One of his hands on her elbow throughout the quick ceremony, to steady her and aid her in standing.

To have and to hold. In sickness and in health. For richer and poorer. He thought, afterwards, that he should’ve made sure that they added the whole ‘obey’ thing to the vows she presented him with but he already knew she would have had none of that.

She had looked lovely in her cream colored lace sundress and sandals. Even with her bruises and the bandages. He’d wanted to tell her so but settled for an approving nod when he’d helped her out of the SUV to go into the building. She’d turned even more appealing when the end of their ceremony had come. An alluring shade of red staining her cheeks as he pecked her on the corner of the lips, to seal their union, whispering in her ear that she made a ‘beautiful blushing bride’, just for shits and giggles and then guided her out of the room, half carrying her back to the SUV, so she wouldn’t hurt herself even further.

Who was he to look a gift horse in the mouth? A selfish bastard like himself? He was used to taking and she was an unexpected gift. A valuable tool. Letting her go? Just like that, after they were done with what he needed her for?

That, probably, wasn’t going to happen.

She was in now. His wife, in the eyes of everyone; not only in his organization but within the brotherhood and the law. She was in the middle of it all, at the very least until she helped him figure everything out and set things to rights in his ranks.

Then, maybe, he’d reconsider.

Maybe.

A knock on the door drew him from his thoughts and he realized that even though he had been facing the floor to ceiling windows he’d been blind to the view. Shaking his head he moved towards the desk, rounding the glass topped monstrosity on the way to the chair behind it.

“Come in,”

Diggle slipped into the office quietly, closing the door behind him before heading straight for the liquor cart that sat on one of the corners of the room. It didn’t matter that it wasn’t a respectable time for a drink, it was 5 o’clock somewhere. He took care in pouring equal amounts of scotch into two tumblers, carrying both over to Oliver’s desk and offering him one. The mobster took the glass without hesitating and swirled the liquid within the crystal in an almost languid motion.

“Something to say, Diggle?”

“Is there something that needs saying, Oliver?” Diggle asked, looking at his own drink, as if it held the answers to questions only he knew.

“There usually is, if it requires us to have a drink before 1 PM.”

The man nodded his head once and took a sip of his drink.

“I thought a drink would be fitting, considering it’s your wedding day. But since you want something insightful from me I will say this, man. I have seen people do things backwards but this? It takes the cake.”

Oliver’s internal wince didn’t reflect on his outward calm demeanor, instead he took a page from Diggle’s book and took a sip of his own drink; enjoying the flavors and the burn that it left behind.

“It needed to be done.” Oliver offered.

“No. It didn’t.” Diggle replied with a shake of his head. “You could have sent her away, to any one of your safe houses. Set her up with one or two people that you trusted and all of the electronics she could possibly need, in order to get things done. But no. Instead you, practically, force her into marriage in exchange for her safety.”

Leave it to Diggle to hit the nail in the head. To bring the unspoken out into the light.

It HAD been a crazy idea. An impulsive choice he couldn’t resist. For Oliver, of all people, who loved being analytical and logical about everything, it seemed an out of character step and in all truth it was. But something had shifted within him when he’d first entered that hospital room. Something he couldn’t explain and didn’t want to review too closely. When she’d still been asleep and he’d seen firsthand the havoc the attack on his daughter had caused her. She had looked so incredibly tiny in that hospital bed, the bruises and bandages on her making his black heart lurch.

True, he had felt the stirring before. That urge...Every time he visited Felicity Smoak at her store, every time she refused his offers. Yes, she amused him but she also brought to life something else from within him. Something he thought he had lost years ago.

“We can protect her better this way,” He offered, not bothering to look anywhere else but into the eyes of his closest friend, the man he trusted above all others.

“I hope you’re right. For all our sakes, especially hers.”

The ringing of Oliver’s phone interrupted the end of Diggle’s statement, making the man who was so much more than a brother in arms and bodyguard swallow what was left of his drink and leave the glass on top of Oliver’s desk before retreating out of the office while the mobster took out the device from his pocket.

The name on the screen made him grimace.

Fuck.

What he wouldn’t have given to have a bit more time before this conversation happened.

He took a deep breath while swiping the screen and putting the phone to his ear. The glass of scotch now forgotten. There was no greeting on his part, nor on the other side of the line. These kind of calls rarely required those.

"У нас была проблема." ( _We had a problem_ )

Better to jump in with both feet and hope that there wasn’t a metaphorical rock at the bottom of the abyss, ready to cripple him from the get go in this conversation.

"Да, Слейд уже объяснил мне. Как она?" ( _Yes. Slade already told me. How is she?)_

Leave it to the man who was supposed to be enjoying a well-earned honeymoon in Russia to have his finger on the pulse of Starling City. His brother was in protect mode 24/7 when it came to the family, even if Oliver had granted him some time off to celebrate his nuptials. Then again, he was just like Diggle in that regard; when it came down to the wire they were the two men that he trusted with his life. He was glad that Slade was in Russia, giving the information straight to Anatoly.

Miscommunications within their family could be deadly, after all.

"Все в порядке, она осталась с моей сестрой и ее мужа в одном из наших щабов. Птица и демоницей защищают ее сейчас." ( _Everything's alright. She stayed with my sister and her man in one of our safe houses. Bird and Demoness are protecting her right now_.)

"Хорошо. А что с женщиной?" ( _Alright. What of the woman_?)

Wasn’t that the billion dollar question? This was the part that he dreaded. Sure, he had made her his wife because he was a selfish bastard but telling the Pakhan only cemented things. It’d be biting the bullet. The point of no return.

"Она со мной." ( _She's with me_.)

"У нее впечатлительный фон. Она могла бы быть очень полезна для нас." ( _She has an impressive background, she could be very useful to us_.)

Anatoly’s organization, the family, was a well-oiled machine. The man had a very accurate business sense. Part of his success rested solely on gathering the best of the best and bringing them into the fold. The other part? Ruthlessness when it came to those that opposed his changes and the way he ran things. Where the family had been almost obsessed about the purity of its lineage only a few decades back when Anatoly had taken the reins things had changed. Someone’s abilities outshone nationality, most of the time.

Now Felicity was in the middle of it all. An asset to the brotherhood. She was priceless and Oliver wanted to keep it that way. Drive the point even further, if he could.

The less expendable she became, the better.

"Точно. Именно поэтому я предоставил ей свою защиту." ( _Exactly. that's why I put her under my protection_.)

"Защита? Имеет она вступила в ряды?" ( _Protection? She joined our ranks_?)

"Нет . Она теперь моя жена и находится под моей опекой." ( _No. She is my wife and she is under my protection_.)

There were several reasons why he had been resisting having this part of the conversation and Anatoly’s reaction to this particular set of news was one of the biggest ones.

"Ты, поженился еще раз. И на этот раз по собственному желанию! Вот чудо, сынок!” ( _You got married again! And this time out of your own volition! It's a miracle, son_.)

The jovial reception almost made him sag with relief.

Once upon a time, as an up and coming member of the Bratva, Oliver had the chance to help the Pakhan with a special assignment. His daughter, Eeva, had needed a husband from within the ranks. Of course, Anatoly had wanted a good man for his daughter, that would not only care for her weak constitution but someone that would be kind to her.

The answer had been obvious to the older man and Oliver had been granted the hand of the Bratva princess in marriage. Their union, of just a few precious years, producing a single child. A ray of hope, after Eeva had perished, from a weak heart, after the birth of her child.

Hope. Nadya, as she was known when she was in Russia. His daughter. The one he’d do anything for.

"У мне не было никакого выбора. Ее фон впечатлительный и она была бы хорошим инструментом, чтобы иметь на нашей стороне. Особенно с слухи циркулирующие вокруг нас." ( _I didn't have a choice. She'd make a good instrument to have on our side. Especially with the rumors going around us_.)

"О, да. Твой предполагаемый интерес удалить меня от власти." ( _Oh yes, your supposed interest to remove me from power_.)

The older Russian snorted at that. The rumours were ludicrous, they both knew it. Oliver had no desire to ascend to the seat that his former father in law held. But the mere fact that the rumors existed in the first place was troubling. Empires had fallen over smaller misunderstandings.

"Я спрошу ее проверить ето все а также и за возможные слабости в моей части семьи." ( _I'll ask her to check all of those as well as any possible weaknesses in my own part of the family_.)

"Отличная идея, непременно сделай ето. Эта женщина, она является отличным активом для нашего братства." ( _Excellent idea, make sure that you do. This woman will prove to be an excellent asset to our brotherhood_.)

Sitting down on the chair behind the desk Oliver placed his hand on his forehead, rubbing at his temples as he spoke.

Sure, the conversation was going better than he could have anticipated but it also reminded him about everything he still had to work out. Including a very long chat with his new wife regarding who her new family was.

How would Felicity react to the idea of less than ‘six degrees of separation’ from having the head of the Russian mob as a family member? Because when Oliver had married Eeva he had, for all intents and purposes, Anatoly’s son and that was a relationship that still held. Talk about the possibility of awkward family gatherings.

"Она спасла жизню моей дочери. Она должна быть вознаграждена за этот акт и не поставена под угрозу. Моя оборона является крайней мере я могу дать ей. Я может быть не часто милосердным, но я не бессердечный.” ( _She saved the life of my daughter. She should have been rewarded for this, not put in danger because of it. My protection is the least I could give her. I may not be merciful very often, but I'm not hearless_.)

"Именно, с ынок. Я очень хорошо это знаю. Я обеспокоен этой наглой атаки, Оливер. Все слишком очевидно." ( _Exactly, son. I know that very well. Those blatant attacks worry me, Oliver. It's all too obvious_.)

On this they agreed. The attacks had been too blatant. Out in the open. It was sloppy to draw this much attention to the underbelly of Starling City.

"Я буду обращаться с этим." ( _I'll deal with those_.)

And he damn well would.

He hadn’t gotten to his position as a Captain by playing nice with others.

" Нет никакие правила когда дело доходит до безопасности моей внучки. Не стесняйтесь ломать несколько или все из них, я не забочусь. Я буду поддерживать твои решения. Даже если мы должны идти на войну из-за них.” ( _There are no rules when it comes to the safety of my granddaughter. Break some or all of them if need be, I won't be angry. I'll support all your decisions, even if it means we'll have to go to war for them_.)

The statement made Oliver grin.

He had the blessing of the Pakhan to wreak havoc as he saw fit, as long as he got results. Unleashing him onto the unsuspecting perpetrators of his daughter’s would be murder, without any restrictions? It had been a while since he’d had such leeway.

It was placing those who had been behind this on a silver platter for Oliver’s beast.

A generous gift.

"Когда все закончиться я пошлю Надю, что бы она провела лето с тобой." ( _When everything is over I'll send Nadya to spend the summer with you_.)

"А почему же только Наде? Ты тоже приходи рядом с товей женой. Я хотел бы познакомиться с женщиной, которая сумела укротить мой любимый капитан и бывший зять." ( _Oh, but why only Nadya? You should come as well and bring your wife too. I want to meet the woman who tamed my favourite captain and former son-in-law_.)

Shit.

"Если настаиваеш." ( _If you insist_.)                                                  

“See that you do.” The older man said in accented English.

The line went dead after that and Oliver took in a deep breath.

He had the go ahead from the only higher power he answered to. The absolute green light and his body hummed with energy. He had the nanny contained at a secure location, simmering in her fear, waiting for the moment when he’d appear and get answers from her by any means necessary.

He had people to do that kind of work for him now but this was personal. There was no one else that he’d trust with this particular case.

He also had a brand new genius bride to set up with all of the electronics available to man he could get his hands on, which were many, a sister to call and a daughter to introduce to her new step-mother.

Glancing at the glass of scotch he had placed down before taking the call from Anatoly he picked it up and downed the contents in one long pull. First he’d get answers from the nanny, find a direction for the digging that Felicity would do and then he’d make sure that the person, or people, responsible for throwing a wrench on how he handled his city were taught a lesson.

It was time to get to work.


	4. Broken

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plans are made. Questions are answered and then awkwardness ensues.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to thank everyone for being patient with me, first and foremost. When I was working on Masquerade I was able to post once a week but life has been a bit of a whirlwind as of late so the stories I have going have no schedule. Yet you guys have been behind me through it all and I cannot put into words just how much that means to me.
> 
> So, thank you all so much!
> 
> ALSO! MAJOR NEWS! Quiveringbunny, on tumblr, was inspired enough by this fic to make a picture for it! I AM SO Excited to finally be able to use it! So if you love it, hit her up and thank her! I think it's GORGEOUS! Thank you! Thank you!!!
> 
> I was in a big hurry to post this so Ill edit typos later on!
> 
> Oh, and this might be a bit darker than my usual so please keep that in mind!
> 
> As usual, I don't own Arrow.

 

Blue… or was it considered Navy? Did it really matter? Her hands were positively itching for a keyboard. Not for the first time she found herself yearning for the backroom of her store. She had never longed for an outdated PC that hurt her, in her soul, with its antiquity and need for her to bring up to date, technology wise, as much as she did at this very moment. That, at least, would’ve been familiar, as opposed to everything that surrounded her now.

 

The whole room was a sea of blue colors, mingled with a bit of dark woods and stylish gray. And though it was nice looking enough it was driving her absolutely nuts!

 

She had nothing against the color blue, nothing at all, but she was just so frustrated by everything that had happened that her brain was beginning to associate the color blue with a certain person and the feeling of being jinxed. Yes. Now that the shock had worn off completely Felicity realized just _how_ deep she’d stepped in it.

 

And it was all because of the color blue. The moment that devil with cerulean eyes and light blue tie, under a dark grey suit, had entered her store her well-ordered and perfectly normal life had come to an end; she just didn’t know it. She was too distracted by what she had considered harmless, and sometimes awkward, flirting while sticking to her guns regarding her store. Of course there had been some seriously inappropriate babbles on her part, regarding him. Those darned baby blue eyes had gotten her in trouble then and they hadn’t stopped.

 

And now? Now she had a husband, on paper, which had made her angry at herself. She was a hacker, for crying out loud! One of the best! And that wasn’t bragging, since it was true and well proven. Yet somewhere in Starling City county courthouse there was a marriage license; an honest to God piece of paper marriage license, with ink still drying, showing her name and signature at the dotted line, under the title of bride. Or was it spouse? Had the marriage license been politically correct regarding the equal rights movement and able to accommodate same sex marriage or had it been an antiquated one..?

 

STOP!

 

FOCUS.

 

This had nothing to do about the license being correct but the fact that one existed with her name saddled right next to his under the title of husband.

 

HUSBAND!

 

“Oh my God. What did I do?” She muttered while trying hard to recall the whole ceremony.

 

It was like trying to hold onto tendrils of smoke.

 

She’d still been shaken by the happenings at the hospital. No. Scratch that. She was still shaken about everything, even what had landed her in the hospital in the first place. A flash of the car barreling down the street towards her threatened to tear her from her train of thought but she held on. The point was, she had been shaken, yes, but she’d been lucid enough to find her brand new engagement ring gaudy and ask, though in all truth it had been more of a demand, to wear something that could at least pass for a wedding dress.

 

That had been the only allowance she’d given herself in order to cope, during her daze.

 

God. For a genius her brain could be so stupid sometimes!

 

Groaning she racked her brain for a way out of this mess. What were the requirements to get a marriage annulled? Wasn’t it something along the lines of not having consummated the marriage one of them? Now THAT she could do. Or not do, as it were, because there was no way she was having sex with Oliver ‘her freaking HUSBAND’ Queen.

 

The niggling memory of the end of the ceremony and a playful kiss bordering the edge of her lips tried to break free from her brain like a flare, setting her cheeks on fire.

 

NOPE! Not going there. Ever. She wasn’t thinking about that. No way. Just. No.

 

Sure, she wasn’t going to deny her new husband was a looker. She would’ve had to have been blind not to see that and though she wore glasses she wasn’t THAT blind. Plus she was a full blooded live female, to deny the fact that her husband was Hot, with a capital H, would’ve been a blatant lie. But if she was going to make this annulment idea work then she, Felicity Megan Smoak, would need to do what other women rarely did or had failed to do.

 

She’d have to resist her husband’s charm.

 

It would be difficult, yes, because he was handsome, smart and charming to boot, but she would prevail. No question about it. This was a fake, not so fake on paper, marriage of convenience. Nothing else. She would keep her end of the bargain, helping him figure out who had tried to murder his child and ferret out the mole, or moles, in his organization. In return he’d keep her safe, which was plenty for her and then once all was said and done she’d go back to her normal life.

 

“Just a bump on the road… That’s all.” She muttered to herself with a nod of her head.

 

Her time with Oliver Queen, the devil with the arresting blue eyes, would be nothing but a colorful story to tell her grandchildren later on. She was sure of it.

 

* * *

 

In a secure location, close to the Glades, Oliver Queen stepped out of one of the black SUV’s from his fleet. He’d chosen to forego the use of his personal driver/bodyguard, leaving Diggle back at the penthouse, to make sure that Felicity was safe. After all, even with him sticking to the skeleton crew he knew he could trust, there was still a chance that something could go wrong and he trusted no one more than he trusted Digg to handle it.

 

He had prepared himself for this moment. Built up all of his walls. Allowed himself to reach that level within where the link to the man was tattered and all that was left was the darkness required to do his job. With the green light from the Pakhan there was little to do but get to work. The building was one of the most secure in the area, the top floors rented out to businesses to keep his façade of upstanding citizen while his real work happened in the secured basement.  Using the hand print reader as well as the retina scan when he got into the private elevator he watched the doors close and took a deep breath as the transport descended.

 

When he stepped out of the metal enclosure and onto the hall she was already waiting for him. The Demoness was as stoic and intimidating as ever. A beautiful woman with dark hair, even darker eyes, serious expression and a body that many believe to be a dancer’s body; those deemed outsiders would never know that it was an assassins’ body instead.

 

“How is our guest?” He asked, casually.

 

“Your orders have been followed and she has been quite receptive.” She informed him immediately.

 

Oliver Queen had done horrible things to be a part of the brotherhood. So many things, in fact, that he had lost track of just how stained his soul was but during his time in the family he had learned that gathering information didn’t necessarily have to be a dirty job. No. Though it depended on the person, it could all be as simple as basic arithmetic.

 

Subtract necessities, like water, food, light and clothing. Add the ability of the captor to take away the most basic human of rights, such as relieving yourself like a person and not an animal from the captive. Divide the logic part of the brain from the fight or flight instincts so thoroughly than the person is left raw. Then multiply the fear, by a lot. Personally Oliver hated gathering information from women but the woman that was being held in the room they were now headed towards had forsaken her right to his kindness when she’d attempted to take Hope away from him.

 

“Is she ready to talk?”

 

“She has been talking already.” Nyssa offered derisively.

 

A lesser woman would’ve probably followed the statement with a roll of her eyes or perhaps preceded it with an unladylike snort. She did neither, her beautiful features remaining as unreadable as ever.

 

“Has anyone else listened?”

 

“No. Just me.” She replied.

 

“What have we learned then?” he asked while pausing a few feet from the door to the room that held the woman in question.

 

“She was blackmailed. Her family threatened. She had no contact in person, just a series of threatening text messages sent to her phone the morning of the attack with attached pictures of her husband and son. This whole endeavor has been a coward’s approach.” She explained, plucking a cell phone from the pocket of her black jeans and handing it over to him.

 

The device hadn’t been locked or password protected and the messages were easy enough to find. Oliver took his time reading every single one of them and looking at the pictures. It was obvious that someone had been following the man and the boy since the background of the pictures kept changing.

 

“Have we checked on her family?” he asked, raising his blue gaze towards Nyssa.

 

“Dead.” She answered, her jaw locking tight after the words had been said, her distaste on the whole situation obvious. “According to our sources in the police department their bodies were found in an alley, both with gun-shot wounds to the head. Time of death coincides with the attempted hit and run.” She explained.

 

Fuck.

 

This wasn’t how he’d thought things would go and turn of events irked him beyond belief. He had been prepared to go into that room, put the fear of God into the woman who had cared for Hope in his day to day absence and punish her for what she had done, but this? This punishment, dealt by his enemies, was far worse than anything he could’ve imagined. The woman had done the unthinkable to keep her family safe, just as he did every day, and in return her family had died at the same time she had made an impossible decision to keep them safe.

 

Instead of putting the fear of God in the woman now he was the messenger of the worse kind of news and though he knew this was just how the game was played he still felt somewhat sorry for her. Yes, she had attempted to take what was most important to him from him but the loss she had garnered…

 

He shook his head, handing the phone back to Nyssa and walked the rest of the way to the door.

 

“I will let her know of the development regarding her family. I don’t think we will get any more useful information from her. The phone might help us though so keep it safe until we can hand it over to my wife.”

 

“Wife?” Nyssa asked with a quirked eyebrow.

 

“There has been some…developments on my side of things as well.” That was all the explanation he gave regarding the topic. “Have the clean-up team at the ready. I don’t think this will take long. Then head back to the loft.”

 

The assent of her head was the only answer. No need for words. Nyssa, as well as her partner Sara, were part of Oliver’s inner circle of people that he’d trust not only with his life but with Hope’s and that, on itself, spoke volumes of the loyalty that was between them.

 

Opening the door to the Nanny’s appointed room he stepped inside, into the dim darkness and left the door ajar. His eyes adjusted quickly to the lack of light and he spied a crumpled body in a corner. The woman, Helena Staton, formerly of the Bertinelli Italian family, was curled into a small ball, sobbing quietly, not bothering to look his way even if the light she’d been deprived from for a few days was an enticement.

 

“I didn’t mean for this to happen.” Those were the first words she spoke.

 

This woman, who he had entrusted with the safety of his daughter, was a shadow of her former self. He didn’t pay attention to her nakedness or the smell of filth in the room, instead focused all of his senses on her. It was obvious that she had been beaten and she knew it. She had no idea how true that was. Gone was the woman with the perfectly tailored and pressed clothes. Gone was the long and lush ‘no hair out of place’ style and light make up that made her lips look pouty and her eyes enthralling. Gone was the strength and pride he’d known from her.

 

All gone.

 

“I believe you.”

Another lengthy pause went by, her body wracked with shivers. The room had been cooled to a specific temperature, part of the psychological warfare he’d waged on her and it would stay that way until the end.

 

“Were the texts and pictures all you got from your contact?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Then, there’s nothing here for me.” He said with a shake of his head. “You need to know, they did not keep their end of the bargain.” His voice was quiet as he delivered what more than likely would destroy the last shred of her sanity. “Your family is dead, Helena, by their hand.”

 

“No.” her face turned to him that moment, her eyes vacant. “You’re lying!”

 

“I’ve never lied to you and there’s no reason to do it now.” He offered, sincerely. “They were never going to live, Helena. You know it. That’s not how the family’s work.”

 

“NO! They said that if I did it… that if I took Hope there…. No… You’re lying! STOP lying to me!” She yelled, climbing to her feet in an instant and having to rest against the wall for support.

 

“The time of death coincides with the attack on my daughter. They were dead as soon as you were contacted. Even if their attempt had succeeded, your family wouldn’t have made it.”

 

“N-no… no, no. No…” she kept muttering to herself shaking her head.

 

He understood her reluctance to believe. Everything she had ever loved had been taken from her. The one silver lining for her had probably been the thought that whatever happened to her was unimportant. Her family would be safe. Her husband and son would be out there, even if she ceased to exist. But she didn’t have that luxury.

 

All of it had been for nothing.

 

Shaking his head once more he turned and moved towards the door then turned to face her.

 

“I cannot let you live, Helena.” He said, coldly. “You tried to kill my child and there’s no coming back from that. But I won’t kill you.” He added, pulling the gun he carried stuck to the inconspicuous holster under his brown leather jacket he placed the weapon on the floor and then kicked it her way, the metal sliding smoothly on the floor and coming to a stop a few feet from the broken woman.

 

He didn’t stay to see what she’d do, instead he turned his back on her and exited the room, closing the heavy door. Oliver knew that the whole place had been secured in such a way that even if she tried to use the gun on him, from within the room, the door and walls would prevent it, so he wasn’t worried. Still, how things had unfolded troubled him. He was halfway towards the elevator when he heard the unmistakable crack of a gunshot. A single shot and then silence.

 

The cleaning crew, two men that reported directly to Nyssa, exited the elevator. Neither one of them dared to look up at him. Instead they scurried down the hall to deal with the aftermath of Helena’s choice. He had known what her choice would be. There was nothing for her on this world anymore, her death had been guaranteed when she had dared to cross him. In the end it had been a mercy kill.

Driving to the loft had been mostly muscle memory. His mind racing with frustration. He believed Helena when she said the text messages were the only thing she’d received as contact. But that mean that she, as the main lead, was a dead end. No pun intended. He had gone straight for the room he used as a gym and showered on the adjoined bathroom, letting the warm water attempt to wash away the coiled stress on his neck and shoulders. A lot was riding on that phone and Felicity. Dressing himself in sweats and a hoodie he remained barefoot as he padded out of the room and moved towards the kitchen in search for a cold drink. What he found there was not what he expected.

 

Both Diggle and Nyssa were sitting on the stools at the island bar, Diggle looking towards him with a quirked eyebrow, while Thea, her boyfriend Roy and Sara stood at the door removing their jackets. A small squealing blur of purples, pinks and blond hair was aimed straight for his legs and he caught her easily, lifting her into a bone crushing hug before settling her on his hip.

 

“Hi Daddy! I missed you!” Her presence and exuberance made the tension lessen within him immediately.

 

“Hey princess.” He said, placing several butterfly kisses on the side of her face and her hair, making her squeal in delight. “I missed you too. So, so much. Did you have a good time with Aunt Thea and Roy?” he asked, making sure that she was secure at his hip.

 

“Yes! It was amazing! We had sleepuvers and watched movies, ate lots of chocolate and ice cream! I had a half of a big belly buster! She let me have soda!”

 

“And we were not supposed to tell him about that.” Thea offered with an amused shake of her head as she approached, giving him a soft kiss on the cheek. “Hi, Ollie. Before you have a cow about the sugar and health problems just remember it was just for a few nights. I’m sure she’ll go back to her ‘no sugar added’ lifestyle easy enough.”

 

Before he could reply to that there was movement on the stairs and all eyes landed on Felicity. From her outfit she knew that the instructions he had left regarding the retrieval of her things had been followed to the ‘T’. No one that worked for him would’ve chosen her ensemble. In fact, he didn’t think that anyone BUT Felicity would. The black PJ pants printed with colorful matryoshka dolls were a bit on the nose for his taste, accompanied by a bright pink tank top and a thick looking cardigan in cream. Her blond hair was piled in a messy bun on top of her head and her ever present glasses, a different pair he realized, on her clear of make-up face.

 

“Did I just walk into a thing? I totally just walked into a thing.” She said, cradling the arm with the cast against her chest, bashfully, looking at everyone in the room with curious eyes.

 

The silence after that was deafening until the little girl in his arms let out a happy shriek and hugged his neck as hard as she could.

 

“Daddy! You got me a mommy!”

 

There was a chorus of ‘what’s?’ and ‘what the hells?’ mixed with a quiet ‘Ollie what’s going on?’ from Thea, yet Oliver was frozen in place. This was NOT how he had thought of introducing Felicity to his family, yet here they were. The genius blonde had wide eyes and her mouth was gaping open in surprise at Hope’s statement. And the little girl had somehow managed to get free of his grasp, wiggling her way down in order to rush towards his new wife and wrap both her legs in a hug.

Though there was a wince of pain in her face at the surprise hug, due to her sprained ankle, Felicity still lowered her good hand to the little girl’s pig tailed head and petted her awkwardly but gently, giving everyone in the room a ‘deer in headlights’ look.

 

“Uh… hi?”

 

 

 


End file.
